Soren
Rowan's shoulder dug into my stomach as he carried me through the club like I was some kind of sack of potatoes.
I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to scream at him. Instead, I opted for hitting his back, an action that felt as effective as punching a brick wall since he didn't feel it.
"Put me down, Rowan!" I growled, twisting in his grip. I inserted the Alpha command forgetting I was speaking to an Alpha too.
My words were lost in the thrum of the music, and his only response was a sharp slap to my thigh to keep me in place.
"Shut the fuck up," he barked, his tone curt and final.
I bristled at the command, but his confidence left me speechless for once. He strolled through the club like he owned the place, my struggling weight apparently nothing to him. Eyes followed us, some curious, others amused. My humiliation burned hotter with every step. Yet, no one dared to intervene. I hated it. I hated the power he radiated and I hated that it was… intriguing.
